Stealing Home?

Elderly Woman Loses Brownstone to Brooklyn Courts' Inside Baseball

For years, Brooklyn Supreme Court Judge Leonard Scholnick handled virtually every case in the borough involving elderly and incompetent wards who had no one else but the judicial system to look out for them.

A steady stream of sad cases poured past his bench. It was up to Scholnick, a veteran jurist of 28 years, to dole out guardianship appointments to lawyers, approve of how they handled the financial affairs of their wards, and generally oversee the well-being of those who could not fend for themselves.

Few outside Scholnick's courtroom ever paid close attention to what went on inside.

Sold to the only bidder: Elsie Perry's Crown Heights residence
photo: Keith Bedford
Sold to the only bidder: Elsie Perry's Crown Heights residence

Now a chief clerk in the Brooklyn guardianship court, a 32-year veteran, is stepping forward to question a real estate deal involving Scholnick's longtime court clerk. Under the hush-hush arrangement, Scholnick's clerk nabbed an elderly ward's Crown Heights brownstone for well below market value—with the blessing of the judge, who retired this year.

The sale—which was also approved by the Office of Court Administration—further calls into question the clubby atmosphere rampant in the Brooklyn judiciary, where Supreme Court Judge Victor Barron stands accused of demanding a $115,000 bribe to sign off on an auto-accident settlement involving a brain-damaged infant.

The Scholnick case centers on 85-year-old Elsie Perry, a retired AT&T secretary who was suffering from early dementia. Her guardian, a lawyer who later served as head of the Brooklyn Bar Association, applied in August 1997 to Judge Scholnick for permission to sell Perry's two-family home, arguing that cash from the sale was needed to keep Perry from becoming destitute. Perry, though, collected $731 a month from Social Security and another $400 from her AT&T pension. She was lucid enough to "vehemently" object to the sale at first, court documents show. And she later appeared on her own behalf in court.

"It is her position that she worked hard to maintain her house over the years and it is hers," Lynn Terrelonge, Perry's guardian, dutifully told Scholnick. "However . . . we have no money to attend to the expenses of this house."

Without ever advertising the property, as required by law, Scholnick signed orders OK'ing the sale of Perry's home to his courtroom clerk, Roderick Randall, who worked for Scholnick for 10 years and is still employed by the court system in Brooklyn.

Facing no competition, Randall snatched up the brownstone—an 11-room home with two baths—for $120,000, some $5000 less than the market value set by an independent appraiser. Under the terms of the sale, Randall was required to let Perry stay in her home as a tenant, charging her $700 a month in rent. She remained there until her death two years ago.

By other accounts, the clerk saved a bundle. A year before the November 1997 sale, the market value of Perry's home was listed at $157,000—or $37,000 more than what Randall paid. This estimate was filed in a required annual accounting of Perry's assets, records show. Located at 1039 Sterling Place, a well-kept block in a middle-class black area, the three-story house could now fetch between $300,000 and $350,000, local realtors say.

In addition, in a move that would make Donald Trump proud, Randall bought the property using only $3600 of his own money—a mere 3 percent down payment.

The transaction—which occurred when real estate values in the city were generally on the upswing—drew the attention of at least one ranking court official, who questioned its propriety in writing. "If I did this, I would expect to be fired," George Crowley, the chief clerk of Brooklyn's guardianship court, told the Voice. "The whole thing was unethical. He [Randall] shouldn't have been a bidder. The judge shouldn't have allowed it, and the guardian shouldn't have gone along with it."

Crowley, who has feuded with Randall over a promotion he believes Randall didn't deserve, said that when he found out Scholnick had signed the order, he complained about it to his supervisor, Thomas Kilfoyle, chief clerk of the Supreme Court Civil Term. He also refused to process some of the paperwork, which he said brought an angry rebuke from Scholnick.

Scholnick was a powerful figure in the Brooklyn courthouse. A former city councilman, Scholnick hailed from the famed Seneca Democratic Club and served as the presiding justice of the Appellate Term for the second and 11th judicial districts.

"Scholnick went to my superior and demanded that I be fired," Crowley said. "I told him, 'You brought shame and dishonor to this department.' "

Scholnick could not be reached for comment, even though repeated messages were left for him with the spokesman for the Office of Court Administration.

Crowley felt strongly enough about the impropriety of the real estate deal that he placed a note in Perry's Brooklyn Surrogate court file, a highly unusual move for someone in his position. "Is it appropriate that a Court Clerk purchased the property?" Crowley wrote.

After the judge approved the sale, Crowley alleges, Randall boasted about the deal to his colleagues. "He made an announcement that the judge was getting him a house. He made that statement to me," said Crowley.

In a lengthy Voice interview, Randall denied saying any such thing. Though he acknowledged that he learned Perry's home was for sale from reading documents in her file, he defended the purchase. Randall said he is "95 percent sure" he asked the chief clerk, Kilfoyle, if he could pursue purchasing the house and was told he could as long as it was done "in open court." He hired a lawyer and made a bid.

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